Poems upon several occasions by Benj. Hawkshaw ...
About this Item
Title
Poems upon several occasions by Benj. Hawkshaw ...
Author
Hawkshaw, Benjamin, d. 1738.
Publication
London :: Printed by J. Heptinstall, for Henry Dickenson,
1693.
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Cite this Item
"Poems upon several occasions by Benj. Hawkshaw ..." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A43104.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 7, 2024.
Pages
descriptionPage 1
ON K. CHARLES IId^'s. Restoration.
A Pindarick Ode.
I.
THAT Star whose sable mantle hurl'd,Had muffl'd up in Clouds the Western worldIs risen now, and like the Planet Jove,Having run out his hidden course above,Visits our Gloomy Sphere once more;But lo! what does this Herauld bring?It brings with safety home an Exil'd King:A King whom Heaven lov'd so well,Spar'd nor a MiracleTo bring him to his Native Shore.
II.
For your Return all Nature seems to beIn one conspiring Jubilee;
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'Tis hard to know who's most content,The People, or the Firmament.The floating Castles on the Sea around,Dance to their own Trumpets sound;The Ships together with the Tide,Swell with an unusual pride,Whilst some unerring Angels handMoves and directs them to the Promis'd Land.
III.
Fair Albian stretching out her Arms to thee,Implores thy Aid to cure her Leprosie:To Thee the drooping heads of State draw nigh,To bear them up as Atlas does the Sky.Famine, Sword, and Fire,The Great Triumvirate of Desolation,Did with United Force conspire,To Ruine and Destroy the Nation.But the good Influence of Charles his wane,Dispers'd those Mists, and prov'd their final bane.
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IV.
Return then Charles, with all the Joy that's dueTo the Serenest Peace and You;The Gomet's gone which o'er our Kingdom stood,And drench'd its Face in Royal Blood;He that usurp'd your Crown is now no more,As low in Fortune's Wheel, as high before:The hungry Meteor shall no more feedOn the most precious Oil of Stuart's Head,Who on the Wings of Martyrdom Sh'has flown,And in Exchange of this got an Immortal Crown.
V.
The Isthmus which your Foes have made throwAnd walk on Beds of Roses to your Crown, [down,•…•…ind Heav'n did this sweet Seat of Rest prepare,•…•…o ease your Sorrows, and unbend your Care.Since You are comeTriumphant Exile home,Peace in her welcome Streams shall flow,•…•…nd kindly chear the British World below:
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No more the People shall deplore their Fate,But only grieve this came too late.
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